In spite of the beautiful, warm days here in West Michigan, there’s a hint of autumn in the air… the cooler nights and the spots of changing leaves on the maples are gentle reminders that a new season is nearly upon us. Time pushes us farther from the time we had with Lucy, it puts more distance between us and the innocence and faith in the universe that we once had, and it’s a reminder that time moves ahead and we must too. Grief has become my accepted companion, and I think she’s here for life, no matter how much time moves forward. I long for future happy times, but I also ache to have my sweet baby here in my arms. I know that ache will never go away, but I also know there are better days ahead, there must be. Looking at the changing scenery, I missed my Lucy more than ever, wishing with all of my heart that she were here with me to experience the new season.
In spite of the storm we’re weathering, I told Chris yesterday that there’s still so much to be grateful for. He certainly knows this, but I needed to say it out loud. I often need to say things like that aloud, it helps me to believe it more. I told him that I couldn’t do this without him… I am so lucky to have a strong, supportive partner, and we’re both so fortunate that we’ll always be there for each other to have each others’ backs, loving each other no matter what. There’s still so much to be thankful for; everything that was good in our lives before this is still there. It’s just hard to remember that in the dark moments. Everything’s the same, yet everything has changed- it’s a rough paradox to live within. I don’t believe there’s any going back. Joy and grief will simply coexist, and I suppose I will have to handle that.
It’s been six weeks today since Lucy was born. Like the seasons, time just keeps marching along. There are so many moments in which it all still feels so raw, so painful. There have been more moments sprinkled here and there though where I feel okay, and just a little bit like myself. Still wandering lost for much of the time, but it is getting better. It occurred to me on my walk this morning, as I noted the evidence of the changing season, that perhaps I’m living on borrowed time. In the whirlwind of losing our baby, I continue to forget that I could have been lost too. Had it all happened in some other time or place, I wouldn’t have survived what happened either. I do have to wonder though why I’ve been given the gift of more time, but my daughter wasn’t. As a mother, I truly feel it should be my little girl living and experiencing what life has to offer. The harsh reality for me is that it isn’t her, and that we just didn’t have a choice in the matter. Instead, time goes on without our baby, and I’m left trying to make sense of it. She wasn’t given this gift, but I am allowed to continue experiencing it whether I accept it or not. It’s not fair, but I’m doing my best to get back on my feet so I can experience it for both of us. Not an easy task!
Another thing that’s been on my mind is the hard fact that grief changes people. This is not always a bad thing, but it’s difficult when others can’t find a way to accept that. I feel that at least at this point, everyone understands that grief in a situation like this changes the mother and father, but they forget that it sometimes changes others who are connected to them as well. Tragedy and grief should change people. In this case, it gives people an opportunity to examine their life, their priorities, their attitudes. It’s been a shock to me to see a few people who are connected to me and the loss of Lucy who simply keep doing what they’ve always done, even amplifying their negative behaviors, continuing to exist in their own self-centered little bubbles. How a tragedy like this could not change someone’s perception of what’s truly important and what is simply small stuff is surprising. I am by no means perfect or always handling my grief and sadness in the most ideal way; in fact, as usual, I am the first to admit my shortcomings. However, I refuse to let my situation give me license to treat others poorly, though I bet anyone would understand if I did on occasion. There’s no excuse for that, even on the days when I just feel like I can’t face the world. It’s hard to hurt all the time, but my ultimate goal is to come through this better, not bitter. If I can do this, I think others can too. Somehow I feel as though I’m on my soapbox right now… maybe it’s the teacher in me fighting her way to the surface again. I guess what I could say in simpler terms is that it pisses me off when people gripe, complain, or treat others like crap because of their own obstacles, instead of realizing it could be worse and that most life problems are fixable. Death of a child? Not fixable. Whether or not you choose to be proactive about facing your grief? That’s called dealing with it and fixing what you can. If people like Chris and me, and anyone else who’s lost a loved one, can put on our big kid pants and figure out how to carry on in spite of the ultimate heartbreak and loss, anyone can. I believe that. I don’t mean to get so angry when I hear or see complaints, but when it’s piddly stuff or something an individual totally caused for themselves due to bad decisions, I can’t stand it. Do they really have any clue of how bad it can really get?? It’s a daily battle right now with grief… it could so easily break me (I often feel like I’m on the edge of breaking), but I won’t let it. I will never stop loving and missing my child, ever, but I still choose to try to live as well as I possibly can every day I wake up. Like the seasons change our environment, grief changes its companions. It doesn’t have to change them for the worst.